Victory
by nightshoes
Summary: A fic told in alternating Teddy/Victoire chapters which explains how the two came to be together. General shenanigans and such between a rainbow-haired Metamorphagus and the radiant blondie with Veela blood. Enjoy - reviews welcome. Disclaimers apply.
1. Ted: 3 Weeks At The Burrow

_A/N: This is a fic about how Teddy and Victoire came to be together, told by them both in alternating chapters. I never really thought I'd write about them and it seemed strange that they would be two years apart at Hogwarts but anyway, this is just a little something. R&Rs would be cool. Thanks :)_

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><p><strong>Victory<strong>

"Accept the challenges so that you can feel the exhilaration of victory." - George S. Patton

One - Teddy

Victoire Weasley...to me it sounded like the most beautiful name in the world. Right from when I heard it coming out of McGonagall's tight-lipped mouth as she held the Sorting Hat aloft to the group of terrified first-years, I was completely fazed by this girl. Bedazzled. I'd caught a glimpse of her climbing aboard the Hogwarts Express for the first time, but I hadn't really noticed her – I was too busy with my friend Henry, and assuring Harry and Ginny that yes, I _was_ going to take care of myself and I _did_ have my Hogsmeade permission slip. I didn't see any more of her until watching the Sorting and seeing her emerge from the line looking demure and smiling a little, so unlike the rest of the first-years, who were petrified as though they had just seen a ten-foot troll. She was put in Ravenclaw, and I found myself feeling numb disappointment as I watched her from the Gryffindor table. But I knew I couldn't be friends with her even if she was in my House...I was third-year, she was first-year; we were worlds apart...I was going out with Melinda Meadowes...

She was Bill's daughter, and Bill was Ron's brother, and Harry was Ron's best friend and brother-in-law, so of course we'd met before – but I'd never really paid much attention to her back then; she'd always be at the birthday parties or the Christmas gatherings, but more often than not she would be with Dom or Molly or Lucy, and Louis would occasionally be swapping Chocolate Frog Cards with me, and so I suppose she'd never really paid me that much attention either. It wasn't until she started at Hogwarts that I really noticed her, and when I had, it seemed incredible that I hadn't before.

Even at eleven, she was breathtakingly beautiful; with long, silvery blonde hair, fair skin smattered with cinnamon-y freckles, and wide, pale blue-grey eyes, she seemed to cast an incredible aura whenever she was around people, so strong and powerful that it made everyone look up at her just to appreciate her beauty. Sometimes I could hardly concentrate on my pumpkin juice whenever I sneaked a look at her at the breakfast table. She was clever, witty, funny, and kind, as well as being flawlessly beautiful. In every sense, she was perfect.

I sought to look out for her as a brother ever since she arrived, although not conspicuously. I didn't want her to think of me as some kind of strange stalker, and besides, my friends and girlfriend would wonder why I was acting so strangely around this girl. I hexed a pair of Slytherins for calling her a blood-traitor in the corridor – though it was more out of my anger than protecting her, because she seemed to be pretty accomplished in the Furnunculus Curse herself, and shot back some harsh remarks at them, too. This feistiness only made me all the more attracted to her, and seeing the pair of burly Slytherins with angry red hex marks all over their faces added to the smug satisfaction at the work we'd both achieved.

By the end of my fifth year, and the end of her third, things were ultimately a lot different. Melinda and I had broken up; she said it was because I 'didn't seem to be making effort any more' and I let her think just that, not least because it was extremely accurate but also because I had seen her eyeing James Jones for the whole month previously and I wasn't about to stop her if she wanted to be with him instead. So I was quite happy to return home for the summer, ready for sixth year and impatiently awaiting my O.W.L results, and then my joy was greatly elevated by the fact that Harry asked if I wanted to go with him and his family to The Burrow for the last three weeks of summer. I'd been a couple of times before and it had been good to see everyone, so I left grandma's for Harry's house, grabbed some Floo powder and off I went.

Well, something changed in those three weeks – and not just the fact that George's wife announced to everyone that she was expecting twins. Amid all the celebration and tearful congratulations (the tearful part from Mrs. Weasley), I began to feel that burn for Victoire again, that had somehow snuffed out during the last three years. She had, if possible, increased in her beauty, and though the Burrow still held an immense amount of people in it that summer, it wasn't hard to immediately acknowledge her whenever she glided into the room, because she was no longer immersed in friends and other people at Hogwarts. Even when she did something as little as help me prune the Flutterby Bushes, I became all the more appreciative of her willowy frame, her long-lashed liquid-looking eyes, her carefree tinkling bell-laugh, her light blonde hair which clouded her shoulders and seemed to ripple and swish in the breeze even when the air was still...

As soon as I saw her then, I knew I had to have her.


	2. Victoire: Anyone Else But You

Two-Victoire

Teddy Lupin...I'd always thought he was interesting, even when I wasn't talking to him much when we were just little kids. I'd be there at The Burrow, giggling with Dom and leafing through the pages of _Witch Weekly _without even taking any meaning from them, and every so often I'd glance at him throwing a Fanged Frisbee to little Louis and roaring with laughter at the sight of Louis running away from it instead of trying to catch it. But I never really _properly _thought about him. I just thought he was interesting. But after all, no-one could deny that.

With his mother being a Metamorphagus, he would look different every time I saw him growing older at one birthday party or another. At James's birthday party, he turned up with a soft mess of jet black hair and deep brown eyes, and then when I saw him next at The Burrow for Christmas, he had blue eyes and his hair was ash blonde. I had to do a double take every time I saw him, because I couldn't be sure if it was really him or not. His appearance seemed to change rapidly when he was younger, but as he grew up he stuck to more or less the same heart-shaped face, the same short turquoise hair. By the time I was eleven and starting at Hogwarts I had some of my own close friends, and he had his, so that the times spent happily chasing gnomes at The Burrow with all of us seemed to drift further and further away.

Not that we didn't still speak. He hexed some Slytherins for me once, because they said I was a no-good filthy blood traitor, and though I appreciated the gesture I was a little annoyed because he seemed to think I couldn't manage them on my own. Well, of course I could. The growing patches of green fungi sprouting all over their faces proved that.

At the end of my third year, Mum and Dad asked me if I wanted to go back to The Burrow for some time in the summer, as we so often did, and I said yes, of course. Dom was about to start her first year at Hogwarts so she was eager to see all of the many cousins to tell her about it, and Louis knows Grandma absolutely loves him, so he wanted to go too. And with that, we left.

I knew Aunt Ginny's kids would be there, of course, and Lily was only six so I looked forward to seeing her (she was the most adorable little child – still is, actually). But alongside Lily, Albus and James, Teddy came too. And I don't know why, but I found myself thankful that he _was _there, because something about him seemed to remind me of all the happy times we had spent at The Burrow or at Uncle Harry's as kids, and I liked that. In that summer, I talked to him more than I ever did at Hogwarts, surrounded by his older friends and his somewhat intimidating girlfriend. We were free of all that at The Burrow, and therefore it became much easier to relax around him. He really seemed to like me, too, and it was as if his cool-guy-with-the-blue-hair image suddenly dropped away.

His hair wasn't actually blue by that time, though. He was sixteen, tall, _really_ good-looking, with a cute crooked grin and these fantastic olive-green eyes. His hair was a deep purplish-red, raspberry-coloured, and it somehow seemed to compliment all of his features at once, enhancing the twinkle in his eyes and his cheekbones and his skin. Seeing him just literally made me alight with happiness – it's a little embarrassing when I can feel myself glowing like a sodding Portkey, but hey, at least it gets people's attention.

By the time we returned for Hogwarts in September (Teddy having achieved O. in all of his subjects, little smartarse), it was almost as if things were back to normal, doing the same routine things and homework and classes. But – it wasn't normal. Both Teddy and I knew that something was subtly different, only none of us could put our finger on what it was. And then we realised it was us. _We_ were different. We'd realised how much we liked each other.

I remember it vividly.

'Hey, Vic,' Teddy said casually, waving at me as he entered the Three Broomsticks with a group of his sixth-year friends.

'Ugh,' I said in disgust as he slipped into the seat beside me. 'Haven't I told you I hate that name?'

'Many times,' Teddy grinned. 'So, what will it be, then? Tor? Torie? Vicky?'

'_Nothing_,' I said firmly, looking up from my collection of parchment. 'Victoire's fine, thanks.'

Teddy just shrugged, flashing me an adorable crooked smile. 'Homework?' he guessed, watching me sort through the many pieces of parchment.

'Yes,' I replied resentfully. 'Listen to this: I have to practice the Summoning Charm for Flitwick, explain in detail why food is one of the five exceptions to Gamp's Law, _and _write an essay on the importance of Jobberknoll feathers for a Memory Potion. Ridiculous!'

'Ah, well, you haven't even got half as much as I have,' Teddy told me, his eyes twinkling.

'Shouldn't you be doing it then?' I asked him in mock reprimand.

'Oh, I'll just make something up nearer the time,' Teddy said instantly, smiling coolly. 'The teachers always lap it up.' _Why_ did he have to be so infuriatingly smart?

'It's alright for some. Where's your friends?' I asked, loading up my quill.

'They've gone to get drinks. Where's yours?' he asked me in return, pretending to look pitying.

'Shut up. Lucida's at Scrivenshaft's, actually.'

'Ooh, I see.'

I rolled my eyes at him playfully and continued with my work, trying hard to ignore his penetrating eyes which I knew were upon mine. Then, he spoke.

'Victoire?'

'Yeah?'

'Go out with me?'

I sat with my quill poised above my parchment, dripping ink blots everywhere. I was stunned, though I kept my face perfectly composed; I didn't want him to know how much I was taken by surprise at his question and how much I'd wanted to hear him ask it.

'Well,' I began calmly, though I could feel that strong glow creeping up on me again, and cursed it for giving me away, 'What exactly do you mean by, "go out with me"?'

I was teasing him, pretending to be confused, making him explain himself fully to my great enjoyment. He knew this and his eyes gleamed momentarily before grinning.

'I think you should be my girlfriend,' he said casually, but his tone didn't deceive me; I could see his eyes widening and he sounded a little breathless. It was a rather unfortunate side effect that when I was glowing like I was at the moment, people seemed to forget what they were saying and their eyes glazed over a little. But I couldn't _help _it – with Veela in my blood, it was inevitable that I would possess some sort of Veela-ish enchanting glow that stopped people dead in their tracks. I'd seen the look on Dad's face when Mum was particularly happy. It was an expression that my sister and brother and I used to giggle about because we teased him for looking like he'd been Confunded.

'Oh, your girlfriend?' I asked politely, humouring him.

'Yes,' Teddy said, and his eyes dropped to the ground for a second. 'I just – it seems mad that you're not with someone else already, so I'm nabbing you before somebody else does.' Then he paused, laughing. 'No, that sounds like I only want you out of spite, doesn't it? What I mean is, I really, really, like you, and personally I think I'd make an excellent boyfriend, so why not?' He winked jokily.

I was slightly taken aback by that, and somehow I fought the urge to laugh. It sounded like one of those petty chat-up lines.

'Teddy,' I began, but he interrupted me hurriedly.

'Don't force me to tell you everything, OK? You're making me more embarrassed by the second, and I know you're loving it – '

'Too right,' I muttered.

' – but we both know what happened over the summer, and I know now that if I could have my pick of any girl, it wouldn't be anyone else but you.' He cringed a little at that, though, I was pleased to see.

'Well, who knew Teddy Lupin could be so romantic?' I laughed.

Teddy laughed too. 'Come on, Victoire, you know you love me,' he said with a wink.

'We'll see after our date,' I said with a raise of my eyebrows. 'Because, you know, you can't just come in here and ask me to go out with you and then supply a cheesy line like that without taking me somewhere decent afterwards, to make up for the cheesiness.'

'And if it's decent enough, you'll go out with me?' Teddy said, catching on.

'We'll see,' I said mystically, though we both know he had me already.

And that was that. I wasn't sure if I was going to like being someone's girlfriend. It made the whole thing sound like he owned me. But, to my immense relief, it wasn't like that at all. It was just like being back at The Burrow the previous summer, actually. He wasn't only my _boy_friend; he was my _best_ friend.

It was difficult trying to find the time to spend with each other, given that I was preparing for O. and he was going crazy with all the N.E.W.T work he had to do, but we managed it. My best friend Lucida couldn't stop teasing me about it, and of course everyone thought I was seriously lucky to be going out with _Teddy Lupin_ – he was popular, smart and well-liked, and many a girl gave me dirty looks when they saw me with him, I can tell you – but in the end it wasn't about anyone else. It was about us.


	3. Ted: Bletchley's Blunder

Three-Teddy

'So, what shall it be today, then?' I ask as we walk companionably, hand in hand, down Hogsmeade High Street. It's pleasant for a January morning, and the warmth of the weak sun feels good on my face.

'Oh, I don't know,' Victoire grins, taking a long breath in. 'Your choice.'

'_My _choice?' I say, in mock astonishment. 'You haven't been Confunded or anything, have you, Victoire?'

'Shut up, of course I haven't,' Victoire snaps, though I can hear the smile in her voice.

'Well, we're not going to Gladrags again – not after I had to endure you talking to all of your friends for half an hour over the colour of some new bloody dress robes.'

'Hey!' Victoire protests, giving me a playful shove.

'Well!' I reply, though we're both laughing. I do an impression of a giggly Victoire and some gossipy girls she'd met the previous week. '_Oh, I just don't know, I think these blue ones are much better...Really? I think Dominic would notice me more in these...Oh, no, go for these ones! Look at the detail on the collar!_'

'Don't pretend like you were bored,' Victoire says, a mischievous smile inching across her perfect face. '_I_ saw you comparing the fabrics of those cloaks.'

'I was checking the durability of them, thank you very much!' I say loftily. 'I've been looking for a new cloak.'

'They were WonderWitch cloaks, you idiot!'

I kiss the top of her head as, laughing, we wander down the High Street peering into various windows.

'Bloody hell! I forgot, I need some stuff from Potage's...it's for my Essence of Euphoria I've got to make on Monday...'

'Oh, okay, we'll go there first. What do you need?'

'Two ounces of nutmeg and a Malacaw tongue, I think.'

'Ew.'

We reluctantly enter the dusty little Potions ingredients shop to buy my supplies. I never really liked the wizened old owner McSeech, and so when we leave I'm glad to be back outside again, even if there is a cold wind blowing on my open face.

'The Three Broomsticks?' Victoire suggests, indicating the cosy little pub which was a retreat for the majority of Hogwarts students. I nod gratefully, and we hurry over to get in the warm. I let Victoire choose a table while I order two Butterbeers for us.

Victoire has a strange look on her face when I sit down and pass her a drink.

'Thanks. You know, Liam was just talking to me – '

'Who?'

'Liam Bletchley, that fifth-year.'

'Oh yeah,' I say, recalling Bletchley's face; he's a fellow Gryffindor, and we speak sometimes whenever we sit near each other at the Gryffindor table, but I didn't really consider him a close friend.

'Well,' Victoire continues, watching me carefully over the rim of her foaming Butterbeer tankard, 'he talked to me about you, actually.'

'About _me_?' I say incredulously, almost choking on my drink.

'Yeah,' she replies, still looking at me intently. 'He asked me if I was still going out with you, and I said yes, and he said, "Oh, well, be careful, then", and I asked him why, quite forcefully, actually, and he told me that – '

'Victoire - '

'_He told me_,' Victoire continues, cutting me off loudly, 'that I should be careful with you because apparently you've been seen sneaking off recently and acting secretive in the common room.'

I just stare at her, now looking slightly suspicious, but not angry. How is it possible that she's still so breathtaking even when she's annoyed?

'Well?' she prompts. 'What's up? I swear, Ted, if you've been going off _seeing someone _or - '

'I am going to _kill _him!' I growl, slamming down my tankard so that Butterbeer slops onto the table.

'Ted, answer me!'

'You weren't supposed to know,' I reply gently, trying to keep the anger from my voice. 'Don't worry, just excuse me while I go and find Bletchley and give him a nice good hex.'

'You're not going anywhere until you've told me what's going on!' Victoire says firmly.

I sink back into my seat, quailing under her glare, having been just about to seek Bletchley out from the booths in the little pub.

'Look, I can't show you because I haven't got it on me at the minute, but I was planning something for tonight, okay? I've been going to Hogsmeade to get everything set up, I swear – it was going to be amazing, and now he's gone and ruined it - '

'What are you talking about?' Victoire says, still looking suspicious though her expression had softened a little.

'You'll find out later,' I say with a wink, hoping that this will keep her interested. But I notice she still isn't smiling.

'Come on, did you honestly think – would I? Really?'

'I don't know, you tell me,' Victoire replies, raising a sceptical eyebrow.

I want to be angry at her for thinking it, but I can't. The trace of desperation in her silvery-blue eyes stops me, and instead I smile and place my hand over hers.

'Do you remember when I first asked you out and I told you I'd still pick you if I had the choice of anyone?'

'Yeah.'

'Well, it still hasn't changed, you know. I don't see why you think I'd do that to you when you _know_ I have to remind myself how bloody lucky I am every day to have you.'

She laughs softly at that. 'Well, you know,' she shrugs modestly.

'Seriously, though,' I tell her. 'Meet me on the third floor tonight at seven. I'll show you where I've been "sneaking off recently", as you put it.'

She grins, reaching forwards across the table to kiss me.

'Oh, look,' I say as we break apart, 'there's Bletchley over at the bar. I think I should go and talk to him, don't you?'

She shakes her head, laughs, and stops me getting up from the table with a kiss.


	4. Victoire: Sweet Surprise

Four-Victoire

I honestly thought there was something really suspicious going on when Liam talked to me earlier this morning, but that was just me being paranoid, I suppose. Plus Liam can be sly when he wants to be. I should know – he went out with Lucida for the best part of two years, and she ended it publicly, slopping a whole load of Butterbeer down his front at the Three Broomsticks when she found out he'd been sweet-talking other girls. Of course, this was months and months ago, and he hasn't had another girlfriend since (I'm not surprised, actually) – but that doesn't mean I still trust him. Of course I trust Teddy loads more than _that_ slimy git, but you can never be too careful. I just get so worried that Teddy will have found someone better...he's a lot cooler and older than me, and so it gets me fiercely protective whenever another girl so much as looks at him. But, I have to keep my cool. And I know Teddy can be like that as well, his hair often turning comically red in the process. You'd think we'd clash, but we get along a lot of the time, and whenever we don't we always make it up later. I can never stay angry at him for too long.

Anyway, I wait for seven o'clock, wave Lucida a rushed goodbye and set off down the corridors, hoping no teachers catch me wandering on my own. It's not late, but I'm heading towards the opposite direction of the library and if I'm cornered I have no idea what excuse I'll have to make. Luckily, my path is clear – even from Peeves, the disruptive and annoying poltergeist who so often found enjoyment in being a total bloody nuisance.

'Vicky!' Teddy greets happily, knowing this will annoy me.

I push his broad chest softly as he wraps his arms around my waist. 'Shut it,' I tell him.

'Make me.'

'I will,' I say, half-seriously. 'So, what are we doing here? What's this surprise I wasn't supposed to know about?'

'All in good time,' Teddy says grandly, gesturing to a statue of a humpbacked witch next to him.

I stare blankly. 'It's lovely,' I say with a sarcastic smile.

'No, you idiot, we're going to use it to get into Hogsmeade.'

'Get into what?' I repeat bewilderedly.

'Never mind, I'll explain later,' Teddy says, and points his wand at the statue. I watch sceptically.

'_Dissendium.'_

Instantly, there is the sound of stone pushing stone and I peer round the humpback of the witch to see that it is in fact moving backwards to reveal a wide, dark hole.

'What in the name of Merlin...'

'I'll give you a leg-up,' Teddy says and without warning he scoops me up so that he's holding me by the waist and I have to grasp his shoulder.

'Teddy, what are you playing at?' I ask, giggling but a little annoyed that he's leaving me in the dark.

'Just get in there, will you?'

'Ow – okay – watch where you're putting your hand, you!'

'Sorry,' laughs Teddy without sounding sorry at all, and he gently helps me lower into the depths of the hole. I emerge into a low-ceilinged, dark chamber and look up to see Teddy climbing in after me.

'Have you been sneaking around school finding secret passageways?' I ask in mock astonishment. 'My, my, Teddy Lupin, you naughty boy.'

'I didn't find this one,' Teddy winks. 'It was shown to me. Right' – he reaches up and pulls the piece of stone back over the hump again, enclosing us in darkness – '_Lumos_.'

I copy him, illuminating the chamber with glowing light, and he pushes me gently onwards along a tunnel.

'You know I don't like surprises,' I tell him warily.

'You'll like this one,' he says.

We meander around the passageway, tripping up over cold earth occasionally, feeling our way around the stony walls. I start to feel a little cautious about what Teddy's planned. He _did_ say we were going to Hogsmeade, didn't he? Only this doesn't feel much like it.

'Nearly there,' Teddy whispers, slightly breathless.

'Thank God,' I mutter, and he gives me a playful shove. I retort by pushing him back into the wall, and we carry on like this, giggling helplessly and pushing each other along the passageway like two drunk people, until -

'Stop!'

'What?'

We stand in silence, shivering in the draughty, dark air which fills the low tunnel.

'I can hear...voices...'

I listen intently, concentrating with all my might, and I realise Teddy is right. Muffled, low voices emanate from the worn ceiling above us, as well as creaks and heavy footfalls.

'So what do we do now?' I say quietly.

'Wait,' says Teddy, and I hear him move forwards and see his shadowy figure rise ahead of mine, climbing a twisting set of stone steps in front of us, being as careful as possible.

'Teddy - '

'Shh, Victoire, stay down there...'

We wait in suspense, my heart beating faster and faster. I had no idea what was up ahead; I had no idea where on earth we were. What if Teddy had got it wrong? What if we'd ended up somewhere we weren't supposed to?

A sliver of light appears from above me, and Teddy is thrown into further relief; I can see he's holding open a trapdoor but only by the tiniest amount.

'Teddy, what the bloody hell are we doing here?' I demand in whisper, starting to get annoyed.

'It's okay, I think they've gone,' Teddy says, more to himself than me, and, still holding the trapdoor open, he throws out his hand. I retrace his steps and hold on to it tightly, standing a couple of steps below him.

In one fluid motion, Teddy swings back the trapdoor and heaves himself up onto the dusty, grimy floorboards, taking care to be as quiet as he can. Then he pulls me up, too, and sets the trapdoor back to its original position.

I look around; we're in some sort of cellar. It's dark and draughty - not much more pleasant than the passageway we just left behind. But there is a faint sugary smell in the air, which seems strange compared with the haphazardly stacked cardboard crates and giant full-to-bursting sandbags stamped with strange ingredient names. The smell reminds me of somewhere, but I can't put my finger on it. Then I remember what Teddy said about getting into Hogsmeade, and suddenly I know where we are.

'Honeydukes,' I say quietly.

'That's right,' Teddy grins. 'Come on. It's just up these stairs. But be really, really quiet...I reckon the owners came down here because they heard us talking...'

He takes my hand and we inch our way up the stairs like little mice. I feel like some sort of criminal...we were technically breaking and entering, weren't we? I fight back the sicky feeling of guilt. I know Teddy wouldn't do something illegal, but he can be a bit mischevious when he wants to - is this his idea of fun?

'Er, Ted?'

'Yeah?'

'What are we actually doing here?'

'Shh!' Teddy urges. 'It's going to be fine, don't worry. Look, just come over here a second - yeah, just here - and wait behind the counter in case anyone comes. I'll be back in a second.'

'_Teddy_,' I moan, but I do as he says. I'm starting to feel a little uneasy. I hate surprises.

'_Alohomora! _Right...Victoire, come on, let's go.'

'What?'

'Come on!'

He hurries across the little sweetshop, takes my hand again and leads me to the front door, now ajar by the tiniest sliver. Glad to be out of the shop (which seems much more sinister in the dead of night when you've snuck in there, I can tell you), I follow him outside and we breathe in the cool night air.

'So?' I ask curiously.

'You'll see,' he winks, and takes my hand once more.


	5. Ted: Worst Date Nerves

Five-Ted

I can smell the cold crispness in the night air as we hurry along the High Street. I hope desperately that no-one looks out of their window or opens their door to let their cat out. I know I'm not doing anything wrong. I have a right to be in Hogsmeade just as much as the next person. But then, a niggly little voice reminds me that it's late into the night, there are a manner of strange and disgusting things in the village (McSeech, for example) and anyone putting their cat out would _definitely_ think we are up to something.

Victoire is getting tired of my secrecy, pulling my arm playfully and demanding to know where we're going, but I can't tell her yet.

'We're nearly there,' I say firmly, searching furiously around the tall, wizened houses and the occasional gnarled tree, looking black and sinister in the moonlight. _Past the post office...turn left at the bench..._

'Here,' I whisper.

We'd come to a quiet, secluded area, away from all the shops and the centre of the village but not too far away either. The vast, hilly landscape of the village, sparkling with frost, stretches on leading to a silhouette of the tumbledown building I know to be the Shrieking Shack. In front of us is a crumbling stone wall, which is actually so covered in thick moss and ivy that it no longer looks like a wall at all. Behind the wall is a tangled mess of almost-bare trees, rustling slightly in the chill air.

'This is it?' Victoire says sceptically. 'This is _it_? You show me a passageway to Honeydukes and a view of the Shrieking Shack? Nice.'

As much as I'm annoyed by her lack of faith in my brilliant plan, I can't help but laugh. 'You'll regret saying that in a minute,' I say seriously. Then, hoping this will work, praying I've done my enchantments right, I take out my wand and point it at the cluster of ivy with the distinctive red berries.

'_Privata arbierta_.'

It works – sighing with relief, I watch as the ivy slowly snaps and comes away from the wall, shrinking back into itself, and the moss slowly seeps back into the cracks on the mottled stone bricks, and the vines snake away from the place where the purple light touched the wall, as though it's some sort of quick-spreading killer, and then, suddenly, the wall is old and bare and visible again.

Victoire stares at me, astonished. 'And what the hell was that?' she says, a smile quirking up one side of her face.

'Just something I made up,' I say casually, pocketing my wand again as if it was nothing. 'I had to think of something that would conceal a secret entrance, and I thought of the brick wall in the Leaky Cauldron that opens to Diagon Alley when you tap the right brick – that had to have _some_ sort of enchantment, didn't it? Only this time I wanted it to open for just me...so I fiddled about a bit with spells, and I did it.'

'You're brilliant,' Victoire says in admiration. I just grin and give one of the feeble stone bricks a push.

Instantly, the formation of bricks parts right where I tap it, leaving a deep crack splitting down the stone wall...the bricks slowly move aside with gravelly crunches and make a rough arch shape, big enough for a man to crawl through.

'After you,' I say pleasantly.

Victoire drops to her hands and knees and shuffles through the hole in the wall. I follow, glancing behind me to check the bricks have reformed, and a sound like stepping on twigs tells me that the ivy and moss is starting to reappear.

'Merlin, Ted!'

I jump to my feet instantly; Victoire is standing in front of me, and is gazing around the clearing. The clearing _I_ made. For her.

It is cozy but still spacious, and the walls enclosing us are the tall, impenetrable trees (which I've reinforced with the Muffliato and Shield Charms, of course). I laced the branches with hundreds of paper lanterns which, levitating like the candles in the Great Hall, now illuminate the scene, and there's an Everlasting Fire in the corner which I also covered with a Shield Charm to prevent it spreading, in a fit of panic. I'd also scattered (cringing inwardly at my own soppiness) rose petals all over the grass, and though I knew Victoire wasn't madly romantic, I just wanted to make it look nice. I knew girls went mad for that sort of thing.

'I can't believe you did this,' Victoire says, beaming. 'I am impressed.'

'You should be,' I say, winking. 'It took me ages to Blast enough trees out of the way to make a space.'

'_Teddy_, I never knew you were so romantic,' Victoire teases, suppressing a laugh.

'Shut up,' I tell her, furiously trying to control my hair so that it wouldn't change colour.

It's then that I realise – Victoire is glowing. At first I think it's the heat and the warm blaze from the fire, but her silvery hair, her arms, her face...they are literally smouldering with some kind of pure, white light. She is literally a human Patronus. It takes my breath away. I'm hit all of a sudden by her beauty, her perfect doe-like face, like waves washing over me again and again –

'_Teddy_!'

'What?' I say, startled.

'Stop doing that!'

'I wasn't doing anything,' I say as casually as possible.

'Yes you were! Your eyes went all unfocused. Did you even hear what I just said?'

'My eyes were not unfocused – and yeah, I did, of course I did – '

'Well, then, what did I say?'

'You just said how you think I'm the most amazing boyfriend ever for doing this for you and you're willing to do anything for me – '

'I did _not_ say that,' Victoire says firmly, though by now we're pushing each other and giggling, and then we collapse in a heap on the floor.

'Ooh, petals,' Victoire giggles, fidgeting as we lie on our backs like we're making snow angels, staring up at the starry sky a million miles up. 'Nice touch.'

'Do you _want_ me to put a Silencing Charm on you?' I say half-seriously.

'Like you could manage it.'

'Ooh! _Ouch_. Wait, _who_ got Outstanding on _all _his OWLs? Yeah, me.'

'Don't remind me!' Victoire groans. 'I'm set to fail all of mine, what with you sneaking me out every night when I should be studying.'

'I'll tutor you if you like,' I say innocently, though Victoire sees my wink.

'Oh, _yeah_, right, like I'd need more time with you bragging about Cross-Species Switches or something – '

'I'm such an expert on those, you know. I'm McGonagall's favourite. Don't mean to brag.'

'Brag? You? Never.'

I lie with her in silence for a while, picking out the constellations in the inky blue sky. I recognize a few from Trelawney's vague lessons in my OWL years, but I'm not much interested in Divination – to me it just seems like fancy zodiac signs and diagrams combined with guesswork and a mystic manner. I try and find the constellation Grandma was named for, but I don't even know what it would look like.

'Look at the moon. It's like a giant, round...'

'Sickle?' I suggest.

'Nah, it looks like the top of a lemon meringue pie. Hey, I could just kill for one of those.'

'I'll see if I can conjure one,' I tell her, taking out my wand jokingly and laughing. As she pushes it away, giggling, a loud and menacing howl rents the air. It is not a howl of pain or a howl of misery – it is the howl of a wolf.

That's when it happens.

My vision becomes foggy and clouded. I can't hear anything any more; it's as though someone has clamped their hands over my ears. I am no longer in control of my own body...I can feel myself shaking violently but I can't stop it...the pain is unbearable, I wish it would stop, I can hear the howling in my head as it plays repeatedly like a stuck record...I don't know where Victoire is, or what she's doing, or where _I_ am, for that matter...I just have to know if Victoire is alright...

I feel my face thudding onto the damp grass, and then everything is black.


	6. Victoire: Doubts and Diversions

Six-Victoire

'Teddy?'

I stay, kneeling, on the grass beside him. I'm too afraid to even touch him – I have no idea what just happened and I am more terrified than ever. I'm shaking as I reach out a hand and gingerly prod his shoulder. He doesn't move.

What _was _that? The way he'd just slumped onto the grass, shaking and murmuring...his eyes had rolled upwards...then, as quickly as it had started, it stopped, and he'd flopped face-down onto the petal-strewn ground. It had started when something howled in the forest outside of Hogsmeade...I know that it was probably just a stray dog or lone wolf hiding out in the mountains, but all the same, an eerie chill creeps over me because in spite of the body splayed next to me I am all alone.

Teddy stirs feebly.

'Ted?'

'Mm...I...'

'Ted, please, wake up, I'm here, wake up!'

I daren't try any spells to awaken him as I'm scared in case it does more damage, so I wait for him to return to consciousness. It's a while before he manages to lift his face away from the grass. He turns, with massive effort, over onto his side and looks at me and for the first time ever he looks genuinely scared.

'Victoire, what happened to me?'

'I don't know, Ted, I don't know! You just suddenly went rigid and started shaking and mumbling, and I didn't know what was going on! I was so scared, I didn't know what to do, and then you just stopped and – I thought – I thought you were – '

I fight back the tears and tell myself not to be so stupid. But my breath catches in my throat.

'It's OK,' says Teddy in a would-be reassuring voice, only his eyes are wide and alert and it's not OK at all. 'Let's just – just get back up to the castle, yeah?'

'Are you going up to the hospital wing?' I ask.

'No, they'll just make a fuss,' Teddy says firmly, though I know he is deliberately saying it because he doesn't want to seem weak.

'Ted, I really think you should go,' I say stubbornly.

'Victoire, I told you, I'm fine, I just want to go up to bed – '

'But you're not fine!' I protest. 'Look at you! You're going whether you like it or not – '

'What are they going to do that'll help?' Teddy replies a little defensively.

'I don't know, but – but what if it happens again?'

'It won't,' he says. 'Come on.'

He makes the secret opening reappear again and ushers me through the tunnel, sealing it off again when we reach the other side. The atmosphere couldn't be more different – coming here, it was full of excitement and wonder, and now we are both scared and cold.

Teddy takes my hand as we walk back through the village to show he's not mad at me. We hardly speak the whole way there.

'Are we taking the Hogsmeade passage again?' I ask.

'No, I think there's another around here, but I've never taken it so I can't be sure.'

He shuffles the dirt around with his feet and then kneels down to uncover a heavy, rusty grate. I stare at it, feeling slightly sick.

'We're not going into the _sewer_, are we?'

'No, this isn't a real grate,' Teddy murmurs. 'This one should take us back to Hogwarts.'

Hoping he was right, because I _certainly _didn't want to be stuck in a sewer in the early hours of the morning, I help him slide back the grate and then lower myself into the depths of the small circular hole. By the light of my wand, and eventually Teddy's when he joins me and replaces the grate, I see that we're not in the sewer at all, but a low, earthy passageway, and that a tight spiral of worn steps has been sculpted from the dirt.

'Lead the way,' says Teddy.

Cautiously, I begin to climb the staircase. It's higher than I first thought, and the tight spirals we climb make me feel dizzy and tired. Eventually, after what feels like a million silent years, I reach the top, and, panting slightly, I emerge gingerly into a corridor.

Teddy gives me a small smile, made eerie from the illumination of his wand, and takes my hand again. His hand is cold, and our breath clouds up in front of us.

The corridor is wide with an arched ceiling and it seems to be following a straight line, or it could just be because we are walking so slowly that it doesn't feel like we're turning any corners. The walls are adorned with portraits of old, medieval-looking witches and wizards, none of them too familiar.

'Where do we come out?' I ask; my voice sounds like a cannon-blast in the quiet.

'We should end up somewhere on the sixth-floor corridor,' replies Teddy. 'But we'll have to be careful because any of the teachers could be patrolling, and there's always Peeves.'

'Oh. Right.'

We wander on, and now I can just make out a shadowy doorway at the very end of the corridor.

'Victoire – I'm really sorry,' Teddy says unexpectedly and awkwardly. 'It was supposed to be perfect, and I've ruined it – '

'Don't be stupid, it's not your fault,' I say quickly.

'But I can't _believe_ this has happened – I know that I couldn't exactly help it, but – I sort of – blame myself, for – '

'You don't need to blame yourself for anything,' I say firmly. 'You didn't know what was going to happen. And I'm not mad at you at all.'

'I've spoilt it for you,' Teddy mumbles, and I can hear the childishness distinct in his voice.

'Don't worry about it,' I say, smiling at him and hoping he can see it through the half-darkness. 'I care more about you being OK.'

'I think I know what caused it,' Teddy says clearly. 'My – er – '

'You do?' I interrupt, not wanting to hear him use a word to describe what he'd experienced in the secret clearing; I thought 'fit' might be closest, but it was a horrible scary word and thinking about it made me feel uneasy.

'Yeah,' says Teddy. 'It happened when the wolf howled, d'you remember?'

'Yes,' I say a little uncertainly though that part of his episode was the one I wasn't likely to forget. To be honest I'd hoped he wouldn't bring it up or even remember it at all.

'Well, you know my Dad...'

'He was a werewolf,' I say knowingly, comprehension dawning. I was told of Teddy's parents through Uncle Harry, who knew them both; their deaths occurred on my birthday. Harry, Dad and Uncle Ron had assured me that Teddy's father was one of the nicest werewolves they knew. They had also said that they did not think it likely that Teddy would inherit his father's condition, and he hadn't showed any signs of it – well, not until tonight, anyway. But he had his mother's Metamorphagus abilities, so was it possible that he could, too, be a –?

'I was thinking that maybe, if Dad was one, I might have – '

'I don't think so,' I say, not entirely truthfully, but speaking confidently so that Teddy wouldn't worry, or even think that I was afraid.

'What?'

'Well,' I say reasonably, as we reach the doorway and I push it open to reveal yet more stairs, 'I think if you _were_, it would have showed before now – I mean, there have been hundreds of full moons and you've never been like that before, remember all those nights you spent outside at The Burrow? And because you weren't actually bitten, I think that makes it more likely that you won't be affected...you might show little side-effects, like what happened earlier, but really, I think that was because the wolf was howling, and it must have triggered something...I don't know, Ted, but I definitely think we should talk to someone just to be sure.'

'You seem to have thought about this,' Teddy muses, as we climb the second staircase which is a great deal creakier and raises dust with every step.

'Dad was bitten once, remember?' I say, trying not to sound cold or sarcastic.

'Oh, right – yeah, I'm sorry,' Teddy says apologetically.

'It's fine,' I say. 'Well, we could talk to Dad, then – in fact I'd say he's the best person to talk to, he's the only person who's come closest to being an actual – well, you know – '

'Good idea,' Teddy says in relief. 'God, Victoire, I'm so glad I have you.'

I inch a little closer to him, glad that we're no longer in that icy, scared silence.

'I'm glad I have you too,' I say truthfully.

'You're about the only person who wouldn't run off screaming and crying when they find out their boyfriend has some sort of mad shaking fit which means they're probably a dangerous werewolf.'

'I told you, you're _not_ going to end up a werewolf,' I say, shaking my head as if it was the most ridiculous thing I'd ever heard. 'And you could never be dangerous,' I add.

Teddy shoots me an uncertain look. 'You never know,' he says darkly. 'You turn into a completely different person when you – '

'Shh!'

We reach the top of the staircase, and we've entered a little room with nothing but a stretch of blank wall in front of us, and a flaming torch on both the left- and right-hand walls. Voices can be heard, slightly muffled, issuing from the space beyond. My heart pounding furiously, I drag Teddy over to the wall and we press our ears against it to listen.

'...checked the seventh floor?' a stern voice was saying, one that I recognize as Professor McGonagall.

'Yes, Professor, but when I got near Dumbledore's office I ran into Peeves, and I didn't quite get the chance to do all of it, so – '

'Oh, well, then, Cauldwell, I think you should check again, just to be sure, and should you find anyone roaming around please send them to me,' McGonagall replies a little wearily. 'To get a message from Honeydukes at this time of night, it must be serious...but still, it could just be some students who have found their way into Hogsmeade...'

Teddy and I look at each other. He is wearing the exact expression of mingled panic and horror that I am.

'Yes, Professor,' says the other, called Cauldwell; I recognize his voice as the Ravenclaw prefect a year above me.

'Very well, off you go, and I shall be in the dungeons if you need me, seeing to the Slytherin common room...between you and I, Cauldwell, I wouldn't put it past Nott to try something as stupid as breaking into Honeydukes...'

We wait, in agony, until two sets of footsteps die away.

'What the hell do we do now?' I whisper frantically. 'She knows someone was in Honeydukes, she thinks someone's broken in...'

'Someone _has_ broken in,' Teddy reminds me.

'Oh, really?' I say sarcastically.

Teddy ignores me. 'Wait...did that other one say he was going to patrol the _seventh_ floor corridor?'

'Yes, he did, and – '

'_Shit_, I need to get back to my common room!' Teddy curses.

'So do I!' I realise in a rush of panic. 'Oh God...oh no...how are we – ? '

'I'll just have to make a diversion so that I get to the common room before he does,' says Teddy quickly. 'And – and you can just go straight to yours, can't you?'

'Yes, but McGonagall's going down to the dungeons, I'll just have to make sure she's on the floor below me when I go downstairs – there won't be any prefects down there, d'you think?'

'I don't know, there might be some near Ravenclaw Tower...' Teddy bites his lip. 'It's late; they won't have prefects down there, just take a shortcut.'

'OK – how do we get out of here?' I ask desperately.

'I think you push the wall and – '

Teddy jumps, startled; he has just given the blank wall a slight push and it quietly slides sideways to reveal the corridor beyond.

It's deserted. We hurry past the path of the wall as it moves back to its original position. It feels even scarier than Hogsmeade; we could be discovered at any moment.

'Lucky neither of us have many floors to go,' Teddy whispers, trying to insert humour into the situation, but I can't laugh.

He takes my face in his hands. 'Just be as quick as you can, and if you get caught, tell them it was all my fault, alright?' he says quietly.

'I'm not going to tell them that,' I say stubbornly. 'Hurry up, or Cauldwell will come back down here and see us.'

Teddy smiles for the first time, mingled relief and happiness, and kisses me softly. I'm the first to break away, but I do so regretfully.

'Go on, hurry up!' I urge, taking his hands away, but instead of looking fearful he just carries on smiling and disappears behind a nearby spiral staircase.


	7. Ted: Research

Seven-Ted

'Not one single thing! Not _one_!'

'Calm down, Victoire, this isn't even your problem...'

We are sat in the library, poring over piles and piles of dusty volumes, and all of them, I am afraid to say, are about werewolves. We've been searching all morning, and we've found nothing on the question of werewolf children suffering at all. In fact, this bothers me the least out of the two of us, and Victoire is the one flipping feverishly through yellowing pages. I'm not sure why, but the fact we aren't any closer to finding out whether I'm a werewolf doesn't bother me; instead it's been taken over by the rush of affection for Victoire, because she is sat next to me, helping me, she isn't repulsed by me, she still wants to be with me, and that means more than anything.

'Of course it's my problem, I want to help you! Ted, are you listening?'

'What – yeah,' I say quickly, snapping back to the present; I cringe inwardly because I realise I must have been staring at Victoire with that stupid gormless expression.

'Well, anyway, there isn't anything in _The Origin, Anatomy and Lifestyle Habits of Werewolves _about werewolf children...see, I don't know, because I don't think werewolves usually _have_ children...'

'Yeah, because no one in their right minds would even want to go near them,' I mutter. 'Makes me some sort of special case, doesn't it?'

Victoire shoots me a look before heaving the next heavy book towards her.

'Right, maybe this one will be better...Ted, could you pass me that quill, I want to make a list of all the books we've looked in...'

'I had to be the one with a werewolf for a father, didn't I?' I burst out angrily, unable to stop myself, as I snatch up a nearby quill. Victoire takes it with a scandalised look.

'Don't say that, Teddy! Your father was really brave, you know Uncle Harry told you – '

'He also wanted to run off with Harry and leave my mum to look after me, d'you remember when he told us that?'

Victoire doesn't say anything, but she riffles a couple of pages in the next book with more force than necessary. It's then that I remember we needn't be in here at all if she hadn't suggested researching what happened to me last night, and I suddenly feel a pang of guilt.

'Sorry,' I say quietly. 'I appreciate you doing all this for me, I just think it's a bit pointless – it's pretty obvious werewolves _don't _have kids.'

'They do,' Victoire nods. 'Your dad did. And if he did, it's possible someone else did, I mean, your dad can't have been the only decent werewolf – '

I snort.

'– and you can bet that if someone loved them and had a baby with them then it would be written down somewhere, wouldn't it?' Victoire tells me, ignoring my interruption. 'If it happened a long time ago it would be recorded – I bet werewolf children are incredibly rare – '

'I wonder why?' I ask sardonically.

'Teddy, please stop being so negative,' Victoire says sharply. 'I understand and everything, but I'm trying to make things better in case you haven't noticed.'

'Right, right, sorry!' I say hastily, shoving scraps of old parchment and an ink bottle out of the way to make room. 'Right, give me a book, I'll start looking...'

'You can start in _Hairy Snout, Human Heart_,' Victoire says, pleased that I'm participating. 'Try chapter three.' She pushes a thick leather-bound book in front of me, decorated with a picture of a man with a simpering wolf's head holding a rose out to nobody in particular.

'Lovely,' I say grimly.

'So did McGonagall corner you this morning, then?' Victoire asks a few minutes later.

'Yeah,' I say resentfully. 'She seemed really suspicious as well, but I told her I'd been finishing homework and was in bed way before the Hogsmeade break-in. I reckon Bletchley's tipped her off,' I add savagely, so that I almost tear the page I'm turning.

'He's an idiot,' Victoire says, dipping her quill into an ink pot with a flourish. 'I didn't get asked about it, I got Lucida to cover for me, but I caught McGonagall giving me a look at breakfast, so yeah, you're probably right.'

'Should I go and say something?'

'No way, that just proves you're paranoid that Bletchley's said something and then you look even guiltier. Just leave it.'

'Yeah...you don't think it was that prefect that could've seen me, though?'

Victoire studies me, puzzled. I'd told her that I'd managed to trick Cauldwell into thinking Peeves had upturned a load of desks in a nearby classroom, when actually a good Levitation Charm had just about done it, enabling me to slip back to the common room just in time.

'No – well, I thought you said you'd got rid of him – '

'I did, I did!' I assure her. 'But, well, he could have seen me, I suppose...'

'I don't think so,' says Victoire, shaking her head.

Seconds later, I hear someone walking up behind me, and Victoire is looking up at them disgustedly. I whip around to see Bletchley standing and staring smugly at both of us.

'Having a nice morning, are we?' he says pleasantly. 'Not feeling too tired after your little midnight break-in?'

'Shut it, Liam,' Victoire says warningly.

'I _know_ it was you, Ted!' Bletchley hisses. '_And_ you were with him, Vic – d'you realise how stupid it is trying to break into Hogsmeade? You could get the whole of Gryffindor banned – '

'You – '

But just before I am about to reply, seething, another voice speaks first, and she sounds angrier than ever.

'It has absolutely _nothing _to do with you,' Victoire snarls. 'And even if it was us, which you have no proof of, by the way – it wasn't your place to tell McGonagall. D'you think any of us would have done it if it were you? And _don't_ say that you told her because you were worried,' she adds irritably, as Bletchley opens his mouth to reply, 'because you clearly weren't – you just wanted to see us get in trouble. Which is what makes you the most disgusting, pathetic little piece of scum I've ever met. Oh, and don't call me _Vic_. In fact I'd rather you just stayed away from me. Now get out of the library before I have to force you.'

I stare, astonished, at Victoire, who is stood up with her hands balled into fists and her face contorted in hatred. I can't even make a comment of my own; neither, it seems, can Bletchley; he stares at Victoire looking as though he cannot believe the words have come from her. Finally, he gains the ability to speak.

'Fine!' he shouts, his arms flailing so wildly that spare parchment flutters off our desk. 'Fine then, _Victoire_, but you'll be eating your words soon – you think you're so cool with Teddy Lupin, don't you, well it's obvious he's only with you because he can't get anyone his own ag– '

His words were cut off sharply by a loud _bang_; Victoire and I had both cast a hex at exactly the same moment and as a result Bletchley is blasted off his feet; arms windmilling, he lands on the library floor with a thud, flat on his back.

I'm pounding with adrenaline and hot fury; I look at Victoire, who has a fiery look in her pale blue eyes that shows she is clearly _very_ pissed off. Yet, the corners of her mouth are twitching as though she is suppressing a laugh.

'What did you use?' I ask, as though we hadn't just blasted someone into near-unconsciousness and are merely talking about the weather.

'Stinging Jinx,' Victoire says in the same light, pleasant tone. 'You?'

'Furnunculus Curse,' I reply casually. 'Wonder what the effects are...'

But exactly what the effects are, we don't find out, for the scrawny librarian Madam Pince has just rounded a corner, and halted at the two of us standing, thoroughly unperturbed, next to Bletchley sprawled on the ground. She has a stunned look on her vulture-like face.

'_What...have you done...to this student?_' she says in a deadly whisper, clutching her heart as though she might faint.

'Time to go, I think,' I say out of the corner of my mouth.

Hastily, we stuff our quills, ink and parchment into our bags, and then disappear behind a narrow bookcase, leaving Madam Pince too stunned to act and Bletchley heaving himself up off the ground.

'Now we've _really_ done it,' Victoire murmurs, although I can hear the smile in her voice.

'I've done worse,' I say reasonably. 'Hey, that was an impressive speech there. I've never seen you so feisty. I think I like it.'

'I can't help it when I get angry,' Victoire shrugs, dipping effortlessly to avoid a book floating above her head as it returned to its shelf.

'Although, what happened to "just leave it"?' I say knowingly, giving her a raised eyebrow.

Victoire giggles.


End file.
